


This time is different

by DoctorFluff (Nikulka)



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Rómeó és Júlia (Színház)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Epileptic!Tybalt, M/M, Mild Angst, some unresolved tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikulka/pseuds/DoctorFluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Mercutio didn’t kiss Tybalt, and one time he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This time is different

**Author's Note:**

> So hey, my first full work in this fandom, so I guess, enjoy?

I.

They were merely boys, sparring under the careful watch of the elderly, yet still powerful instructor. The slim, red-haired boy with a tongue as quick as his blade, and the slightly disproportionate figure, his limbs being certainly too long, his hair black and his every blow led with the intent to hurt. They were young, but some kind of twisted passion could’ve been seen between them already. The need to compete, to never allow the other to become superior.  
They sparred, the crash of wooden swords and their heavy breaths being the only sounds in that calm, autumn evening. Suddenly, the rhythm of consecutive blows was disturbed by one stronger hit, and, after that, the noise of the wooden sword hitting the ground.  
“Check,” said Tybalt, holding his sword close to Mercutio’s neck.  
“Not so fast, my dear King of Cats” Mercutio smirked, and with unbelievable agility managed to sneak from his position and start running away. “Come and catch me!”  
“I will!” called Tybalt in response and abandoning his sword, he ran after Mercutio, both deaf to their instructor’s shouts.  
With his longer legs, Tybalt managed to catch Mercutio and they both rolled onto the grass, laughing. Tybalt failed to notice, that the red-haired boy intentionally did not attempt to run too fast.  
“Got you” grinned Tybalt. Mercutio, on the other hand, knew that he lost, and he did not mean the escape. He lost himself in those impossibly beautiful, dark eyes. The boys were lying only inches apart, and Mercutio felt a warm breath of the other on his skin. He bit his lip, and was just about to move even closer to taste Tybalt’s mouth, when the instructor came in running and pulled them both by the ears.  
“Impossible little brats” muttered the old instructor, as he led them back to the training field.

II. 

When Mercutio was thirteen, he teamed up with the Montagues, and together with his two best friends, Romeo and Benvolio, did all the least proper things they could think of. Most of the time, they were just up to some mischief, stealing apples from the market, climbing trees and buildings, or peeking at the adults and their whereabouts.  
That was also the time Mercutio had stolen the first kiss from Romeo. But while sucking onto his lower lip, the only thing he could think of was that instead of Romeo’s brown hair, he was clutching on the Tybalt’s black locks, that it was a Tybal’s tongue claiming his mouth.  
But Tybalt was beyond his reach. Tybalt refused to spend time with him as soon as he learned about his friendship with the Montagues.  
So Mercutio started to taunt him, whenever they met. To mock him. In fact, he did not enjoy it, but it became the only way to get Tybalt’s attention. And that was something, wasn’t it?  
One of those times, after very fierce and spiteful insults, they drew out blades. But this time it wasn’t just wooden swords which they used to spar with. This time, they had real blades. That wasn’t the only thing that changed, however. The thing was, that Tybalt became much more serious. Much faster. Much stronger. Much more deadly.  
Mercutio had extremely hard time avoiding the hits, and when he blocked one, they started struggling to get out of the impasse. Putting all his strength into pushing the Tybalt’s sword with his own, Mercutio reached his free hand and caressed his cheek, in the attempt to stop Tybalt’s anger. He leaned closer, to put a sotf kiss on his lips. Tybalt’s eyes widened.  
“No.” He growled and jumped back, away from Mercutio’s reach, away from his blade and his touch and his words. He put his sword in the sheath, turned around and walked away.  
Mercutio stood in the empty alley, biting his lip and cursing his own stupidity. 

III.

When Mercutio was seventeen, he learned that Tybald had epilepsy. He learned that in the most unexpected way, when he found him late in the night, sprawled on the street, shaking, with a foam on his lips.  
At the first moment, he panicked and he wanted to run away. But then, he knelt beside the dark figure and held his head, trying to prevent him from hurting himself more than he already did. Concerned, he looked at the stream of blood that was flowing from a cut on Tybalt’s forehead.  
After a few minutes a fit seemed to cease, and then went away. Mercutio dragged Tybalt to lay him underneath the nearest tree, then took out his handkerchief, and started delicately cleaning the blood away. In the meantime, Tybalt slowly regained his consciousness.  
“What…?” ha asked in hoarse voice, trying to sit up.  
“Hush, don’t move yet. You’ve had a fit, you’re still weak.” murmured Mercutio, holding him in place.  
“You…!” Tybalt sit abruptly nevertheless, and immediately regretted this decision when he fell back, because of the spinning in his head. He sighed, resigned. “Did you come to mock me, Escalus? To tell me how pathetic and weak I am?”  
“I’d rather say that to save your sorry ass” huffed Mercutio. “Mere ‘thank you’ would be good enough, you know.”  
“Of course.” sighed Tybalt, and closed his eyes. Mercutio looked at his slightly parted lips, and licked his own. He had wanted to kiss those lips for so long…  
“Don’t.” said Tybalt gravely, looking at him. He must have noticed the look in Mercutio’s eyes. “Just let me be and forget about what happened, all right?” he said, finally able to sit up.  
“Of course…” whispered Mercutio, watching as the only one he had ever desired walked away.

IV.

The ball was glorious, as every single one hosted by the prince, and Mercutio enjoyed every second of it. Food, wine, dances… he watched with amusement how Montagues and Capulets tried their best to not start any major fight.  
Obviously, Tybalt was there as well. He had to be, everyone who mattered in Verona had to show up on the prince’s party.  
Mercutio observed him from the distance. Tybalt was tense, not leaving Julia’s side for even a second. But oh, how attractively he looked. His typically unkempt hair was brushed into a tight ponytail, his black attire was covered with a white robe.  
Mercutio couldn’t stop himself, and came closer.  
“Oh, look who decided to show up! My dear Tybalt, seeing you here is the greatest pleasure,” he smirked.  
“Knock it off, clown,” snorted Tybalt.  
“Ah, why so mean? You’re hurting me,” said Mercutio feigning fainting. “Maybe you’d allow me to steal one dance from you?”  
“Forget it,” said Tybalt, but then, Juliet interfered.  
“But cousin, this will be fun! I want you to dance with Mercutio.” Oh, smart little girl. She must have noticed the way Mercutio was looking at her dear cousin. And Tybalt knew that he lost. He wasn’t strong enough to oppose his beloved Juliet.  
“Fine,” he grumbled. “But only once.”  
They danced in silence, and Mercutio was surprised how light and talented Tybalt’s feet were. Mercutio was much closer than Tybalt felt comfortable with, but he said nothing. He effectively escaped every time Mercutio’s lips were seeking his own. When the song ended, he bowed slightly and returned to laughing and cheering Juliet.  
And Mercutio stood smiling, even though he was denied getting anywhere closer.

V.

Again, they were fighting. As many times before, but this was different. This time, Mercutio fought not in his own name. He fought for Romeo’s honor. He was tired and he was confused and he was bitter, and he has had enough. All the events, Romeo’s love for Juliet (of all people! the Capulet girl! though he shouldn’t be the one to accuse, in fact), the threat of true war between the Capulets and Montagues, his frustration with Tybalt that was growing for years… he was done with it. He had nothing to loose. He taunted, he mocked, he fought with his bare hands. He threw everything on one card. He hoped, that maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to save Romeo and calm Tybalt down.  
No such luck. This foolish Montague went right between them. Tybalt’s rage seemed to grow even brighter, he was unstoppable.  
They clashed, furious, determined.  
“My dear Tybalt, life is just a theater…” and caressed his cheek. This brought back some old memories of the other time, like another lifetime, when they were much younger.  
“No!” barked Tybalt, and Mercutio wasn’t sure if he ment that he did not agree with Mercutio’s sentence, or rather that he didn’t want to be touched.  
Tybalt drew out his blade.  
Mercutio only laughed. Surely, Tybalt wouldn’t be stupid enough to hurt anyone, especially after the most recent orders from the prince?  
But he did, because of foolish Romeo, and Mercutio was bleeding, and Tybalt ran away with a fear in his eyes, and that hurt Mercutio much more than the blade did…

VI.

Mercutio was sitting on top of the hill, some distance away from Verona. The wound on his chest has healed, but his expression grew grim and tired. Suddenly, he heard silent steps of a person approaching him from behind.  
“Tybalt.” He said in a hoarse voice.  
“Mercutio.” muttered the newcomer. “May I…?”  
“Do whatever you want” Mercutio waved his hand dismissively. Tybalt sighed and sat by his side. They sat in silence, not sure what to do or what to say.  
“I think it’s unjust” said Mercutio finally. “That we managed to survive, when they are dead. My best friend, your beloved cousin… and what for?”  
Tybalt pressed his lips into a thin line.  
“Let them rest in peace,” he whispered. “Cutio, I… wanted to tell you something.” he said in an uneven voice.  
“Ah… When was the last time you called me that?” Mercutio laughed bitterly.  
“Too long ago.” came the reply. “Listen, it’s just… I know that it doesn’t change anything, and you may hate me anyway, but I just wanted you to know… I’m sorry” he was finally able to finish the thought.  
“For almost killing me? Wow, thanks!” Mercutio raised one eyebrow.  
“For that. And for everything. I didn’t treat you… well. I thought you were just making fool out of me, that you were just… like those Montagues. I was afraid that you’d hurt me. And I just thought...” he took a break, as if looking for the good words. “That maybe, maybe you’d allow me to fix this.”  
Mercutio blinked. Once. Twice. He heard the words, but he was not really able to grasp the whole meaning and the weight of them. And then leaned to kiss Tybalt. The Capulet responded eagerly, drew him closer and started gently stroking his back. They kissed long, until both were left breathless.  
“Maybe… maybe we can try.”


End file.
